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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727680">Role-playing In The Bedroom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterandrocketfuel/pseuds/glitterandrocketfuel'>glitterandrocketfuel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fall Out Boy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, role-playing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:42:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterandrocketfuel/pseuds/glitterandrocketfuel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I'd say sorry but at this point, I have no shame. Gleefully riffed off YourTiredHeart's fic snippet, with YTH's permission</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Be My Peterick Valentine 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Role-playing In The Bedroom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsliesnpeterick/gifts">heartsliesnpeterick</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22771000">This Is A Love Song In My Own Way</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsliesnpeterick/pseuds/heartsliesnpeterick">heartsliesnpeterick</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One thing Patrick has learned from dating Pete is that when it comes to their relationship, Pete has zero fucks and zero filters around their friends. So him announcing his plans for a Valentine's Day anniversary idea of roleplaying in the bedroom is done at the dinner table of the bus, surrounded by Joe, Andy, and a lot of Chinese take-out.</p><p>"Role-playing?" Patrick asks in disbelief. "If this is about that French maid costume--"</p><p>Joe leaps to his feet. "Aaand that's our cue. Andy? You coming with, or are you looking to scar your psyche some more?"</p><p>"Right behind you, bro." Andy pauses long enough to snag his tofu-vegetable lo mein and a fortune cookie and follows Joe off the bus.</p><p>Pete rubs his hands together. "The night is ours, Tricky. Why don't you get your shower while I clean up."</p><p>Patrick frowns. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Pete?"</p><p>"I just want you to be ready for our role-play."</p><p>He is not wearing a French maid's costume, Patrick thinks. Oh, he knows Pete will whine and wheedle, so he's prepared to do a lot of dick-sucking to distract Pete from the idea. It'll be a hardship, but he's man enough to take it all. He steps in the shower cubicle and hums through his abbreviated ablutions. When he emerges from the shower, he's shocked to find that the mess from dinner is indeed cleaned up.</p><p>Not only that, but the lights have been turned out except for the reading lamps above the bunks. It's not ideal, but it's not...unromantic, either.</p><p>Patrick walks into the back bedroom of the bus and finds Pete, sprawled out on the bed with a dungeon master's screen set up, miniatures arranged on a map, and polyhedral dice scattered all around.</p><p>"Pete what the fuck?"</p><p>"I said role-playing, Patrick. Now sit--you're a 4th level Bard with a short sword and a dagger, and the dungeon belongs to a 5th level Medusa and her 3rd level minions."</p><p>Patrick stares down at the character sheet Pete has handed him. "Sir Trick of the Stump?"</p><p>"You have three spell-slots to fill. Make 'em good."</p><p>"Ooo...kay?" Patrick is pleasantly surprised. He thought Pete was serious when he made noises about the French maid's costume and he'd been dreading the return to the bus all day. "So I guess I check for traps around the dungeon entrance. Don't want any surprises, heh."</p><p>It's not long before he's getting into the game--Pete has spent some time on this adventure. He describes a warm, damp, dark cave with eerie sounds coming from twisty corridors, flickering torches, and surprise attacks from enemies like tiny kobolds (Patrick is particularly proud of using his character's lute to punt one of the grubby little nuisances away from him and the natural 20 he rolled only sweetened the cleverness). Pete has even queued up a playlist on his iPod, full of eerie music, medieval-sounding melodies, and one dirty sea shanty ("Hey, this dungeon's near a coast, there are plenty of sailors who've run afoul of the Medusa.")</p><p>What Patrick does not realize is that Bards, being one of the more useless classes in D&amp;D, spend most of their time and most of their points fucking their way out of trouble. So when he comes to the center of the dungeon and Pete pitches his voice to its upper register (sounding like a two-pack-a-day stripper who's twenty years past her sell-by date, but Patrick gamely plays along), demanding, "What have you come to steal from my dungeon, strapping lad?" he makes an appreciative noise at Pete's attempt at acting.</p><p>"I'm going to try to charm her." Patrick rolls the dice. "I rolled a sixteen. With my Charm skill bonus, I made it."</p><p>But instead of Pete continuing with the adventure, he leans back and examines his nails. "I know not of this 'skill bonus' of which you speak." He flicks a glance at Patrick, his eyes dark. "And I am growing bored. You may be pretty, young bard, but if your personality is that of a stone, I shall be glad to turn you into stone."</p><p>"Pete, I rolled."</p><p>Pete turns to him, a smirk playing about his lips. "I said role-play, Patrick. I mean play the role."</p><p>"I--Pete this is ridiculous."</p><p>Pete begins to move his hands in some weird, complicated gesture that includes one or two not-so-subtle middle fingers, one of which goes through a circle made by his opposite thumb and forefinger, and several other obscene gestures. His gaze is steady, dark, and challenging on Patrick's. "Impress me, young Stump, or feel my wrath in the form of a French maid's costume."</p><p>Patrick licks his lips. He catches Pete's eyes following him and does it again, this time more slowly. "Well, uh, ma'am--my lady. When I heard the townspeople talking about the, uh, fearsome witch that, um, lived, er--here, I was...overcome with curiosity because I thought, like, no way could I pass up the chance to meet someone that badass."</p><p>Pete's eyebrows go up. "Go on."<br/>
 <br/>
"I mean, look at you." He pauses to peer down at the miniature. It is, of course, a large-breasted woman with a snake tail, and snakes for hair and a ferocious expression on her face. "Uh, I've never seen such gorgeous skin. Like, your markings--" He gestures to Pete's tattoos. </p><p>Patrick racks his brain for all the things that he's been storing up to say to Pete. Things that sound so--silly when compared to the way Pete plays with words and paints with metaphor. "I've--I've wanted to lick those thorns since the minute I first laid eyes on them. I don't think you realize how your skin looks like it tastes so delicious." He doesn't realize his voice has dropped.</p><p>"Sssayy morrrre," Pete purrs, his voice still high-pitched. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. But he's stopped the obscene gestures and is now leaning on his side, oh-so-casually playing with the hem of his shirt so that the bartskull flashes in the low light from the reading lamps. With his other hand, he tugs at the collar of his shirt, exposing the necklace of thorns.</p><p>Patrick shifts on the bed. "Your hair is gorgeous. I can tell you care about taking care of it and even if you didn't style it, it would still be beautiful in its natural state." Patrick feels himself rising to the occasion. "Your body is like, a fantasy." He takes a risk and rolls mental dice this time instead of real ones. "I'm getting hard just thinking about your body, wrapped around mine."</p><p>Pete's eyes widen. "Keep talking," he says, his voice catching the slightest bit. </p><p>"I mean, if you still wanted to turn me to stone, you wouldn't need to do much--there's part of me that's rock-hard already."</p><p>"Show me." Pete's voice is now hoarse.</p><p>Patrick moves carefully, not wanting to disturb the miniatures between them as he slides his Batman PJs down over his hips. His cock bounces free, thick and pink-tipped. He licks his lips. "See? I've been half-hard since I first heard your voice."</p><p>Pete's eyes are fixed on his crotch. "What would you do to me?"</p><p>Patrick blinks. He's not sure he's talking about Medusa-Pete or real Pete. He knows which one he prefers, but maybe...maybe it's not completely impossible to get a little back at Pete who started the whole French maid thing in the first place. "First, I'd ask to take off your top. Your skin is so beautiful I'd want to look at it, and tell you in detail every way it's gorgeous."</p><p>Pete's hands move to his hem and he wriggles carefully out of his shirt. "Like this?"</p><p>Patrick is caught up staring at Pete's copper-penny nipples and the landscape of his abs for a moment as he nods absently. He licks his lips. "Yeah. You look so amazing. Your skin looks so soft."</p><p>Pete trails light fingers up and down his abdomen. "You like?" His voice is a breathy whisper</p><p>"So much," Patrick murmurs. He squeezes the base of his dick to keep the delicious shivers from turning into something else too soon.</p><p>"What else?" His hand goes to the waistband of his boxer-briefs.</p><p>"I'd ask to touch you. Would you like that?"</p><p>Pete's pupils are blown now. His chest is rising and falling in hypnotic motion. "I'd let you touch me," he says.</p><p>Patrick licks his lips again. "Well, I'd touch you. Taste your beautiful skin. Cup your breasts--"</p><p>Pete makes a clicking noise in his throat. "Patrick!"</p><p>Patrick raises an eyebrow. "Lady Medusa?" He leans forward and the miniatures tip towards the dip in the bed. "Would you like me to kiss your neck?"</p><p>Pete inhales sharply. "No! I want you to kiss Pete's neck!" He begins folding up the papers and the dungeon master's screen. "Trick--"</p><p>Patrick shoves the rest of the game off the bed. "Come here." He grabs Pete and pulls him under him.</p><p>Pete's lip is trembling. "You don't really want some chick, do you?"</p><p>Patrick pins Pete by the wrists to the mattress. "You dumbass. Everything I said, I said about you." He dips his head to the thorns and flicks his tongue over the inked skin and tastes Pete-sweat. Just the way he loves. </p><p>He buries his nose in the crook of Pete's neck where his hair is just beginning to curl again, outlasting the hair product that coats the strands and keeps them straight.</p><p>He dips his head lower and flicks his tongue over Pete's flat male nipples, biting down gently on one until Pete hisses. He trails wet kisses down Pete's flat abs until he reaches the waistband of his boxer-briefs and frees one hand to strip them away. "This is the only snake I want." On his way back up, he takes Pete's cock in his mouth and deep-throats it in one long stroke.</p><p>Pete groans. With his free hand, he scrabbles in the pocket at the side of the bunk until he finds lube and a condom and shoves them into Patrick's face. "Trick, please."</p><p>"I thought you wanted a French maid?" Patrick says after he pops off the crown of Pete's cock, now ruddy and swollen.</p><p>Pete shakes his head. "I want my boyfriend to fuck me until I lose all my hit points."</p><p>Patrick laughs against Pete's abdomen but reaches for the lube. "Do you know the stats for lube?" He slicks up his fingers and presses one against Pete's twitching hole. </p><p>Pete shakes his head. "Whatever they are, they steal my intelligence and penetrate my armor."</p><p>Patrick laughs again, penetrating more than Pete's armor with the second finger. On the third digit, he finds the treasure at the center of the dungeon, so to speak, and scores a critical hit as Pete rises off the bed, opening beautifully for him.</p><p>"God please, Patrick!"</p><p>Patrick slides up, removes his fingers from Pete's body, and slicks up his cock. Pete has the condom packet open and waiting and rolls it onto Patrick's cock with gentle, teasing fingers. "Ready?"</p><p>Pete nods with vigor, but Patrick still takes his time. Tight heat and being surrounded by Pete and Pete's whispers turning to moans. "Trick, yes--"</p><p>"Pete--" He moves faster, pausing to shift his weight so that he can hit the perfect angle. Between them, Pete's hand moves over his cock, his knuckles brushing Patrick's stomach. "Yes. Come for me?"</p><p>Pete groans, long and lovely, flooding the space between them. The tight heat of his body is enough to bring Patrick home and he buries his face in Pete's neck as release rushes through him.</p><p>Long minutes later, he's rolling off Pete, tying off the condom and still gasping for breath and trying to scramble together enough brain cells to form a sentence. He lands on his back and immediately feels something cold and foreign digging right between his ass cheeks. "Motherfucker!" He leaps up.</p><p>Pete glances over and starts laughing. Patrick follows his gaze to see what's so funny about him being very nearly violated by something. When he sees what Pete is laughing at, he can't help but join in.</p><p>There on the bed, after having nearly gone up his ass, is the little grinning miniature of the bard, scoring one final critical hit.</p>
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